


This Is Our Getting-Along Shirt

by cantthinkofausername_B_Pike



Series: Carry On Countdown 2017 [18]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, baz is hopeless, stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12997152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantthinkofausername_B_Pike/pseuds/cantthinkofausername_B_Pike
Summary: Baz and Simon get a rather unusual form of detention: they are magically tied together until they learn to get along.





	This Is Our Getting-Along Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> so I think this counts for the prompt?? day 18- stuck in a ... anything together. I apologize for the title lol.

Simon and I fought in class again. It’s nothing unusual, and it wasn’t even really a bad fight. We’ve had worse. There was the time he fell down the stairs, the time he broke my nose… but that’s not the point. Ms. Possibelf asked to see us after class, and when we showed up, well, that’s when _this_ happened.

After giving us a speech on how we were disrupting class and acting childish and we need to learn to get along with each other (a speech I’ve heard a million times), she cast a spell tying us together. A magical rope appeared, shimmering and translucent. It was looped around my right wrist and Simon’s left, which at least meant that it wouldn’t interfere with our writing. “It will remain until you two get past this,” she said. 

I assume she thought we could easily learn to coexist, which would cause the rope to dissolve. However, Ms. Possibelf severely underestimated the amount of issues between Simon and I. Namely, us being on opposite sides of the war and of course the whole thing where I am secretly in love with him. I sighed, resigning myself to an eternity magically tied to Simon Snow. 

It’s only been a day, and we’ve already had to suffer through countless embarrassing situations. At dinner, I was forced to sit next to Snow, though I normally make a point of sitting across the room. I had to watch as he shoveled three plates of food into his mouth. He eats like an animal, no table manners whatsoever. It’s disgusting, but I can’t complain, because I know why he never learned any.

Back in our room, we narrowly avoided a huge issue when we discovered that the rope does not stop us from changing clothes. Somehow, the clothes travel straight through the rope as though it isn’t there. It did make changing rather awkward, as Simon could no longer use the privacy of the bathroom. Snow started to take his shirt off without warning me, and I almost tripped from trying to turn around and close my eyes so fast. If I didn’t know better, I would say he did that just to mess with me.

The worst part of the night was when it came time for me to take a shower. I always shower at night, and Snow showers in the morning before I wake up. That’s just how it is. Thankfully, the rope decided to stretch several feet longer, avoiding _that_ predicament, but Snow still had to sit in the bathroom while I showered. My mind would not stop thinking up insane scenarios where Snow didn’t hate me and instead was in the shower with me. Having him sitting only a few feet away was hell. That was the fastest shower of my life. 

As soon as I had clothes on again, the rope shrunk back down to its original size. It was nowhere near long enough for us to sleep comfortably, as it didn’t reach the distance between our beds. Grudgingly, Simon and I moved our beds next to each other. They were not touching; there was a foot or so of space in between them. If they were touching, that would have been like sharing a bed with Snow, and there was absolutely no way I was doing that. Though I hate to admit it, I probably would have done something mortifying like cuddle with him in my sleep. As it was, all that happened was that my arm hurt from being stuck in an uncomfortable position.

This morning, Snow woke me up early. Though I hadn’t been sleeping particularly well, I still resented waking up at the same time as the sun. That’s just unnatural. I didn’t mind as much though, because it meant that I got to see early-morning Snow, a sight I rarely see. His hair was messy and squashed on one side, and his blue eyes were still heavy with sleep. 

All of my resentment to being woken up came rushing back when we were dragged through a repeat of the shower incident of last night. This time, I was tormented with the knowledge that Snow was completely naked only a few feet from me. I struggled to keep my imagination in control; it was absolutely too early for my mind to go to these places. I decided right then that I would do whatever I had to do to get this dumb rope to go away, because I absolutely could not do this for another day. This was _torture_.

At breakfast, I had to watch as Snow ate mountains of scones, each with a literal slab of butter. I think he eats his weight in scones every week. At least this time, the entire school didn’t witness me sitting with Snow. Only a few early risers were at breakfast at this time of day.

We had to sit next to each other in every class though, which brought that embarrassment back tenfold. It’s not so much that I mind sitting with Snow, it’s that we still aren’t speaking to each other and have a magic rope around our wrists. Also, I have a reputation to keep up. (I would gladly let it fly out the window if it meant that I would be allowed to hold Snow’s hand when we sit together.)

We aren’t fighting anymore, but we also aren’t strictly _not_ fighting. Apparently, a stony, resentful silence is not the rope’s definition of ‘getting along,’ so it stays. As of right now, it has been twenty-five hours since Ms. Possibelf sentenced us with this punishment. Not that I’m counting.

“Baz?” Simon asks me. “How are you supposed to go to football practice?”

I hadn’t even thought about football. Today’s practice had been cancelled due to storms, but tomorrow’s was still on. And I see no way to practice while tied to Snow.

“I have no idea, Snow. Maybe we could get rid of this rope so I can get my life back.”

“You don’t have to act so condescending. I’m missing out on stuff too,” Simon says, hurt. I feel bad that my words had their intended effect on him.

“You probably like this. This way, you don’t have to follow me around all the time to know what I’m doing.”

“I do not!” Snow splutters.

I raise my eyebrows. “Really.”

We sit in silence for a while, both of us extremely irritated but incapable of being alone. The rain pounds outside (finally, something that makes Snow close the window for once), but inside our room the silence is so thick it feels almost tangible. 

After what could’ve been five minutes or an hour, Snow asks, “So how do we break the rope?”

“You know as well as I do. We have to get along. ‘Resolve the issues between us’ or whatever.”

Snow makes a little ‘ _hmm_ ’ thinking noise. “So what are your issues with me?”

I sigh. “Where do I even begin? You’re loud, clumsy, and hopelessly idealistic. You leave the window open even when it’s freezing outside. You literally stalked me for a year.” I make myself stop talking, so I won’t say something I regret. Something about how Snow is beautiful and being near him feels like I’m walking too close to a fire – dangerous and exciting and _alive_.

“I’m not changing who I am, Baz.” Snow cocks his head to the side. “But I don’t even follow you around anymore. I haven’t for years. And I could shut the window sometimes, if you like.”

“That would be nice.”

We both stare at the rope, waiting for it to stop shimmering and fade away. It continues to exist, mocking us with its happy, sparkling appearance.

I clear my throat. “Do you have problems with me?”

“Do I ever,” Snow says, rolling his eyes. “You’re always plotting to literally kill me. You act superior to everyone, and I think you’re trying to show off what you have that I don’t. On top of that, you’re a vampire.”

I glare at him. “I am not a vampire. But if I _were_ , wouldn’t you be being – what’s that word Bunce always uses? – speciesist? I haven’t plotted to kill you in years -”

“ _That’s_ a very comforting thought,” Snow interjects.

“- and I’m not trying to make you feel lesser.” I take a deep breath. This doesn’t come naturally to me, but I’ll say it anyway. Anything to get this stupid rope to go away. (Well, not quite anything.) “I apologize for talking down to you. Happy now?”

Snow shrugs. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize before.”

“Hopefully now this damn rope will be gone”

This’ll be… weird. Us, not fighting,” he says slowly.

Hating myself, I ask “Good weird or bad weird?”

He thinks for a moment. “Good weird.”

“I hated fighting with you,” I say quietly.

Snow looks at me quizzically. “Really?”

I look down at the rope to steel my courage. It looks like it’s getting more transparent, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. “It’s been an act for years,” I mutter.

“What?” He breathes.

“You don’t deserve that.” I look him in the eyes. “I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“I only fought with you because you fought with me,” Simon says.

I smile weakly. “So we didn’t have to?”

“We could’ve been friends.”

“We can’t now?” I ask, and I hate that I can hear the sadness in my own voice.

His eyes roam all over my face, cataloguing me. “We could try,” he says, and I see the rope shimmer and disappear.


End file.
